I’m a chronic edger, there’s no other way to do it for me. I used to spend hours having back to back orgasms, prolonging the first couple as long as possible before doing whatever I wanted to make myself cum after that with variety of methods or just gluing myself to the hitachi until I literally was unable to contract anymore. Now I’m on testosterone and pretty much lost the ability to cum back to back. I haven’t missed it that much except when I’m with a partner where I’d love to keep going. My refractory period is now one of a standard cis male. This makes edging so much more intense and precarious. I desperately don’t want to cum, because that means I’m DONE. But I can still successfully masturbate for a whole day. Today marked over a week without cumming, I don’t know why or how. Edging partners being gone, not there to egg me on, probably. So I settled into a normal session barely able to touch myself because I was immediately on the brink. This led to me not touching 70% of the time, taking breaks to literally watch THE NEWS to bring myself down. Eventually I was over it and decided I was so energized that I would give in and cum, then go for a second one. Needless to say, the first orgasm was everything I wanted. Head thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of my head, completely soul sucking. I let myself rest for a couple minutes like I would before testosterone before continuing. It was working! I was working my clit easily toward another orgasm, getting just as aroused as I was before, but even more desperate. I was much more sensitive and my whole body was electrified. I was able to enjoy it for as long as I wanted, because there was definitely a wall there that my new body didn’t think it could or would overcome. Once satisfied with the point I reached, I let myself cum, panting and sweating. This orgasm felt like a workout, like I was keenly aware of all of the oxygen in my blood keeping me chained to life as everything else drained out of me. This time I went totally slack with my mouth open, completely ready to pass out. My body powering down as if to say, “Do that again and you’re dead, pal.” My spiritual balls are empty. It took enormous effort to grab my water bottle and peel the rest of my clothes off. All my insides feel like one homogenous jelly, my skeleton barely more solid than that. Typing this, I still feel like I ran a marathon. My body is asking me why I didn’t accept one orgasm before going to eat a sandwich like every other single man on a Friday night. Well, I’m genderfluid, not a man. I resent not having access to whatever goddess energy I had before injecting myself with Clit-Gro. I stubbornly marched to the brink of human potential and nearly fell off the cliff. THIS is post nut clarity. However, I will absolutely not learn my lesson.